


Stop The Peace & Keep The Violence

by Dissonance



Series: Silhouette AU [2]
Category: Sam and Colby, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Cryptid Exploration, Demons, Haunted Houses, M/M, Paranormal Investigators, Romantic Fluff, Silhouette AU, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-10
Updated: 2019-02-10
Packaged: 2019-10-25 15:26:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17727818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dissonance/pseuds/Dissonance
Summary: With a successful business and a rising reputation among the paranormally obsessed, part time video-blogger and seer of ghosts Sam Golbach gets a disturbing message that he can't help but investigate.





	Stop The Peace & Keep The Violence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TeasTakingOver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeasTakingOver/gifts).



> A short, sweet first chapter. Gifted to you know who, who's writing talent and AU accuracy are both amazing. This'll be either three or four chapters, but I'm aiming for three. The word count will go up, I promise, I just wanted to get a break from one of my other angst-centric stories and explore something a tad bit more fantastical and wondrous. It's seven am and I haven't slept all night, sorry for errors !
> 
> Dissonance

A car outside was running, Sam noted with a frown. The night was dark as any normal winter’s was, abyssal and cold. He could see exhaust clouds colored red from the tail lights of a grey cadillac sitting idle near the door. It was a car he hadn’t seen before at the house, a car he hadn’t seen pull in. Sleepless, he’d wandered to the window, standing with his shoulder propped up against the wall and a half empty bottle of water in his hand. The world had been silent, peaceful in a way, the sky clear with twinkling stars, before a vehicle rumbled to life and lit up the asphalt. It scared him, made him flinch, the headlights casting across the wood floor and shining on his partner’s face, half covered up by a dark blanket. An exhale escaped his lungs, and he glanced back toward the other person in his bed, the worry that was always latched onto him growing in intensity. It was a miracle he hadn’t woken up yet. Between Sam’s prolonged absence and the car in the yard, the disturbances were proving to be abundant.

“ _I’m coming, I'm coming,_ ” the noise came from outside his bedroom, a giddy, familiar voice with an over-eager drag. He turned away from the window and the casting light as he heard a door shutting all too loudly, the noise ringing throughout the house like a car engine in the winter night. 

His weary eyes widened with nervous adrenaline. He set the water bottle down on the window sill and walked toward his bedroom’s door, his socked feet thudding quietly against the paneling. His hand slid over the doorknob, metal cool and smooth, chilling his already icy fingertips. The sterile air of the hallway flooded his face and he let go of the handle, peering out into the eerie darkness.

“What are you doing up?” Sam whispered, leaning in through the doorway as his eyes settled on a feminine silhouette near the stairs. 

Katrina paused in her steps, taking her phone away from her ear, the screen lighting up her excited face. “I could be asking you the same thing,” she replied casually, her voice present and loud, no effort made to be discrete. Irritation pooled in his chest and he sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

“Wherever you’re going, whatever you’re doing, please do it a little more quietly, maybe?” he gritted out, exhaustion present in his tone. He placed his hand on the door, rubbing his thumb along the painted wood as Katrina’s expression faltered in realization of what she was doing. 

“Oh,” she uttered, shuffling her feet and bringing her voice down. “Sorry.”

He nodded and waved unenthusiastically, closing the space between the door and the wall so it was only open a crack. “It’s three am, but you never know who’s up,” he explained, exasperated. “Have fun though, I guess.”

Katrina smiled. “Goodnight, then!” She tucked her phone in her pocket and began her descent down the stairs, now taking it slow, her footsteps soft and easy. He waited until he heard a distant engine revving outside to return to his perch at the window, watching as the cadillac drove off, leaving only smoke in its wake. He sighed, leaning forward, pressing his cheek against the edge of the windowsill, content with staying there and gazing out towards the stars forever, but he was always interrupted, even if the interruption was himself.

_Goodnight. I wish._

His mind wandered freely. He thought of the job last week. The banishing symbol had been a challenge to carve into the ground, especially when he remembered how tough it was to rip up the carpet and expose the wood underneath. That, along with the particularly annoying poltergeist throwing cupboards open and tossing out miscellaneous plates and cups, it had been a doozy of a time. All in all, the thing was harmless, preferring to mess around with Colby while they were there in hopes of disturbing Sam’s work on the ritual, but after finishing, the house owners had paid well. Worth it, he’d say, like most of the calls were, but he had an inkling that tomorrow’s wasn’t going to go as well.

He hadn’t told Colby about the email he’d received just an hour after they’d gotten home, supplies in hand and victory on their minds. It was titled like most of his business emails of the paranormal variety: _Please Help Me_. It wasn’t unusual in the slightest, but a job’s a job, so opened and read it as Jake and Colby played some video game beside him. In retrospect, it truly had been one of the strangest emails he’d received in all of his career.

_“Please Help Me._

_God, help me. Please, I am suffering. We are all suffering. It is this place. It is this house. It is inside me. It sits in the corner of my eyes and the back of my eyelids. It is screaming. It is screaming for another. God, it is whining for another. Yet there is no one. No one I can give up anymore. We are always suffering. This must stop. This suffering must stop. The curse on this land must perish. Let it die. Let it die. Please let it die._

_Please god, let it rot and die.”_

The details were attached in the form of a hazy picture of a cracked phone screen, displaying the address and meeting details on the phone’s notepad. It was so goddamn fucking bizarre, but even with its many red flags, Sam couldn’t help but be interested. Colby would be, like always, very much against investigating a disturbingly vague call for help. He would insist Sam’s safety was more important than some random person they’d never met. He didn’t like to argue with Colby, especially when his intentions were in the right place, but he had to admit to himself that he disagreed. The Sight was both a gift and a curse, but no matter its origin, the fact was that he was in possession of it. He would be in possession of it for the years to come. It only made sense to put it to good use as much as he could.

Besides, what good paranormal investigator says no to an email like that?

He needed to get out, to take some sort of trip that wasn’t just thirty minutes passed LA. He’d already calculated a route to the address he’d been given, had it saved on his phone. The alleged _cursed land_ was five hours away. Five hours from the place he called home. He stared into the sable darkness of the world outside, knowing what could be out there, apprehension digging into his bloodstream. He wasn’t scared, tense would be a better word. That probably explained why he wasn’t sleeping.

As the unsettling phrasing of the email ran through his mind once more, he heard rustling from the bed, and the small, tired breathing of the one he loved most. Of course he’d wake up now. Sometimes he wasn’t sure if he was the one with the superpower.

“Sam?” Colby croaked, and Sam straightened his back, a breath falling from his lips. “Why are you.. there?”

Sam waited, wringing his fingers together as the words caught up with him. “Can’t sleep,” he muttered distastefully, “Andrew Merritt's keeping me awake.”

“Yeah, and Jaime Hailey’s calling you back to bed.”

Unable to resist a chuckle at their chosen aliases, Sam shook his head, running a cold hand through his hair before resting it against the window. There was a lot that sat on his tongue, yet he stayed silent. 

“Nightmares?” Came Colby’s voice, low and downcast. A question with substance.

“No,” Sam breathed, “not that.”

He closed his eyes as he felt his partner’s presence behind him, bare footsteps creeping closer until they were standing side by side. Colby’s hand slid down his wrist and intertwined with his own, palm soft and warm. His face grew hot and he tightened his grip, a motion of reassurance.

“A girlfriend, a pet..” the brunet reminded, tone homely and sympathetic.

Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders, curling his free hand in the hem of his shirt. “I’m going on a job tomorrow,” he confessed, quiet, “I don’t think you should come.”

“What, why?” His groggy tone sounded hurt. Sam couldn’t blame him.

Opening his eyes, he turned his gaze toward the man beside him. “I think this one is gonna be hard, really hard, but I think it’s important..” he trailed off, voice dwindling to a whisper. “I’m not entirely sure.”

Sam smiled as a kiss found its way onto his jawline, Colby’s voice close to his ear. “If you really believe it, I do too,” another, planted on his cheek, “I’ll come.”

They stood in silence, staring out of the window and down into the world below.

“How far?”

Sam kept his gaze forward, spotting his own car parked next to Colby’s. The car they would be taking. Gone like before, exhaust pooling into the wintry air.

“Five hours, a town I’ve never heard of,” he nodded, “It’s a shot in the dark, but I think it’ll be something. I can just feel it. This is something _important_ , I swear.”

“Well, it’ll be there tomorrow,” Colby tugged on his arm, and he realized the brunet had began to walk back toward the bed. He left his bottle sitting on the windowsill and chose instead to follow Colby, their touch breaking as the other made his way to his side of the bed. “It’s late now. If it’s something, we both should get some sleep.”

He lied down, relaxing as their shoulders brushed as Colby’s warmth enveloped him once more. “You’re right,” he murmured, his earlier sense of fatigue returning to his body with one foul swoop. “You’re not gonna change your mind, right?”

Pulling himself closer to the blond, Colby sighed, tone more blissful than tired. “I won’t, I promise,” the blankets were pulled over them and Sam settled, stifling a yawn. “Now sleep, okay?”

Sam nodded. “Okay.”


End file.
